One Night
by ShizukaUsami89
Summary: It was a glorious occasion for everyone present. Almost every country in the world gathered in a large greenhouse which was decorated with white and red roses.It was a rare function so, everyone made sure that it would be worth to remember for their lifetime, the grandest event that would ever enter the history books. An engagement between two countries.


**Warning: An OC, may not be historically accurate.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia Axis Powers.**

**'One Night'  
**

**By: ShizukaUsami89**

* * *

_Loving someone for a hundred years will never be enough. To be with you for eternity is more than heaven and a lot like hell but I won't have it any other way otherwise._

* * *

It was a glorious occasion for everyone present. Almost every country in the world gathered in a large greenhouse which was decorated with white and red roses. The tables were covered with white silk cloths. Only the finest dining ware in Europe were used to serve the wide variety of dishes on the banquet. The band was good and played their pieces well, filling the place with sweet music. It was a rare function so, everyone made sure that it would be worth to remember for their lifetime, the grandest event that would ever enter the history books.

The engagement party of the personification of Portugal, **Afonso Vicente-Carriedo**, and the representative of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, the personification of England, **Arthur Kirkland**.

France, being the longest frienemy of England, took care of the food because he didn't want the Englishman to kill every nation present. Spain took care of the band and decoration along with the twins, North and South Italy, they gave the place a Caribbean feel, which was perfect for the couple. Prussia, being the most awesome nation that he was, took care of the booze and entertainment for the coming night. Most of England's ex-colonies and members of the Commonwealth of Nations gave a helping hand in organizing the event, spearheaded by Canada and India. Everyone was enjoying themselves in the party before the formal announcement and main event for the evening. Everyone except one. Everyone except America, who was currently in a corner with a can of cola in his hand.

He wore a sleek black Armani suit made just for the occasion. His hair was slicked back in a gentlemanly way, showing off his mature side. Japan had insisted that the younger nation should wear clothes that fit the theme of the venue. He knew that England loves formal occasions and clothing. In fact, he knew many things that England loves and yet, he couldn't find any strength to be himself. America just stood in that corner solemnly eyeing everyone who were dancing, chatting and **eating**.

"Al, you okay?" Canada asked, approaching his twin. He, too, wore a suit, a brown one at that. He wanted to wear a different color because he knew almost everyone would choose black.

America nodded and smiled a little, "Yeah, I'm good… you're pretty busy, ain't ya?"

"A bit, eh. But everyone looks like they're enjoying themselves. Why don't you eat now, eh? I think England asked for McDonalds to deliver some food even though France objected." Canada chuckled lightly.

"That old man is really weird… I thought he hates my food…"

Canada shook his head, "He likes them. He just doesn't want to boost your enormous ego, eh. England likes and knows us really well, you know. He just doesn't show it in the most orthodox way…"

Maybe Canada was right but wrong at the same time. England knows each of his colonies and gave them attention as much as he can back then. But all of them would agree that the one that their 'brother'/ 'mother' knew best was America. The greatest treasure aside from his jewel, India. America was his pride and glory during his first Imperial age.

"He doesn't know me well, Matt… What he only remembers is the boy whom he found in the prairie of Virginia…" America whispered almost inaudibly.

"Al… Why are you saying that? Are you still angry over what he did to you during the Revolution?" his twin asked in a very grave manner. He stood in front of his brother and frowned, "Arthur was hurt too, you know… he wrote everyday to you, just for you to come back and-

"I know Matt… But I fought him anyway. I wanted to be free from him and not be his little brother. He didn't want that from the beginning anyway…"

'_Neither have I…'_

"Al…"

America shook his head and clapped his brother's shoulder. "Don't worry Matt. I'm happy for England. From now on, he might get less grumpy right? He has someone to take care of him and vice versa. He wouldn't act like a nagging old maid anymore." he turned to the way to the food table. "I'm just gonna get something to eat…" he laughed and left.

"Oh Al… Why do you have to bother yourself this much, eh? You could've done it before anything happened…" Canada whispered to himself. He knew what his brother truly felt but he didn't do anything as well. Canada feared that his twin might not like for him to meddle with his (America's) affairs. Thus, here he was, the chief organizer of the engagement party of his brother's unrequited love.

"Matthieu. What's the matter, mon cher?" France asked as placing an arm over the other's shoulders. "The party is a success like you planned, mon amour. Please do smile for Papa."

Canada smiled a little and nodded, "Oui… I guess I am a little tired…"

America absent-mindedly put food on his almost over-flowing plate. Food never betrayed him. It was his only true friend in times like this. Yeah, he would eat to his heart's content. The food would fill the void in heart right now.

"What the bloody hell are you doing, mate?" Australia exclaimed, waiting for America to move along so he could get his own food. "Hurry up, will ya?"

"I'll leave when I want. I'm gonna eat everything if I want to…" the American replied in annoyance. He doesn't want to hear England's relatives right now. In fact, he wanted to forget why he was here for. What was the occasion and just eat in peace.

Australia gritted his teeth like the child that he was. "Hey! This is my Mom's party! I get to eat what I want too!" he growled and reached for his boomerang on his back, only to remember that any kind of weapon were left in the hotel for safety measure. "I don't have my boomerang but I'll punch you if you don't move, fat arse…"

It was not the time when America could tolerate the little Australian's childishness. He was trying to cope with his situation in the most non-violent way possible but here, England's little baby, pissing the living hell out of him over food.

America put his plate on the table and faced the angry Australian, "Look here, kangaroo kid. You don't know what I'm going through and I'm trying to forget who's party this is so, you've got three seconds to fucking leave me alone…" He growled under his breath, his blue eyes glinting in anger.

"K-kangaroo kid… You did not fucking call me Kangaroo kid!" Australia exclaimed and tried to pounce the larger nation. But luckily, New Zealand held him back along with their uncle Scotland.

"Australia!" New Zealand reprimanded his brother. "Don't cause trouble in Mom's party… Do you want to make him sad?" he added and tried to calm Australia down.

"But he called me 'Kangaroo kid'! I wanna kick this yank's arse! Let go of me, Zea!"

Scotland flicked the boy on the forehead, "Shut up you twit. Play nice with the lad here, he can bomb your little playground if he feels like it…" he jabbed a thumb to America, "This guy managed to make the Greatest Empire cry so, don't mess with him… Go and play somewhere else. Zea, take yer wee brother to the desserts…"

"Okay, Uncle Scot…" New Zealand nodded and dragged a very pissed off Australia, swearing revenge.

Scotland faced the other, "Thanks, dude. But you didn't have to tell them that…" America spoke with a sad tone.

The Scotsman shook his head and crushed his cigarette on the mini-ashtray that he carried in his pocket. "Don't thank me, ye yank. What I said was true. I always wanted to scare the twit and also…" he looked at the other, eye to eye. "Ye know that I always try to piss off my wee brother England but for once, I want him to be happy. That brat had been too lonely and too hurt for far too long. It's high time that he get to be happy with that dark guy… It's such a pity because I thought ye will be the one who will make him happy as feck like that. Shite, I even lost a bet with Wales and Northern Ireland fer ye. The only thing ye managed to do fer our England is to make him cry and scared shitless."

America looked away and fisted his hands, "I didn't mean to do it. I had to…"

Scotland took another stick from his pocket and lit it, "We know. He knows. But ye didn't do anything even after that… Ye know what lad, ye could have controlled the whole world, heck ye still do! But ye missed a tiny detail, ye lost yer chance…"

"What are you trying to say…"

"Ye know what I'm sayin' ye yank. It's yer lost because sometimes even the greatest can be too fecking scared to do something before it's too late…" Scotland sighed and saw Wales calling him from the booze area. "Well, see ye lad. Got a drinking bet to win…" he patted the American on the shoulder and left.

Why? Why was everyone acting like they knew everything that he felt? How do they know? What do they know? Have they felt like this before? Did he show that he wasn't happy as fuck like everyone else was? Hell, why was he even there anyway? As if there was something he could do to stop it and go back in time to fix everything right?

Questions continued to flood America's mind. Maybe this is the feeling of those he always teased in the friend zone. He himself, was in their place, watching the person they like be with someone else without getting past the friend zone. Pathetic. Some hero he was.

"America-san, are you going to eat that?" Japan asked as he eyed the over-flowing plate of food beside the American.

"Hi ya Japan, got some new release? Game? Anime? Dude, do you have any action manga around?"

Japan shook his head, "Sorry, I did not bring anything with me. But you look like you are going to cry…"

"Hell naw!" the American laughed and scratched his head. "Just getting sleepy ya know… Must be the jetlag and all. You're funny Japan…"

"Ah… Well, there is this drama in my country. It is highly recommended! France-san said that you might like it. It's about a boy who attended his first love's wedding ceremony. During that time, a fairy spoke to him and they traveled back in time to the moments when he and his first love, almost became together, however, the boy let those chances slip through his fingers because he was too afraid to admit and confess his feeling to the girl. In the end, the girl was about to marry their homeroom teacher. The fairy told the boy that if he didn't do anything by the end of the bride's party, he will never have another chance…" Japan recalled the plot of the said show.

America's eyes widened and listened to Japan with his full attention, "Then what happened?"

Japan smiled with this question and watched England who was busy talking to Portugal with a smile on his face. The English Island nation saw him and waved, "Well, there were two endings of the story. The bad end was that the boy didn't do anything but let the girl go. He needed to wait and try in their next lifetime to be together with the girl. The good end, on the other hand, the boy told his feelings to the girl even though he was scared that the girl might reject him. But fortunately, the girl returned his feelings and they got together."

"Oh…" was everything that America could reply. "I'll check that on the net by the time I get back to my suite…" he grinned. How cliché it was. But it perfectly reflected his situation. Just like the hero of that story. He was too scared of rejection that he kissed those chances, to confess to England, goodbye. But there was no fairy to guide him. No magic, which England said that exist, can help him. How will America ever change everything with only tonight as his deadline. He was the kind of nation who liked to cram as much paperwork as possible. But he did work his hardest and best under pressure. Will this work with England? Hell, can he even face England tonight without breaking down.

America had to admit. He, who always knew how to speak freely, always gets tongue tied in front of the green eyed nation. He often led to spewing nonsense and insults. Thus making things between them even more complicated. Even heroes get nervous. Even heroes fall in love. Even heroes… fail.

"Ah England-san! Portugal-san!" Japan piped up, breaking America's train of thought.

The blue eyed nation quickly turned to the couple, who were approaching them. England looked simple yet elegant like usual except that he wore a white tuxedo while Portugal, his soon-to-be fiancé, wore a matching black suit. Portugal almost looked like Spain except that he grew his hair longer, which was tied with a thin blue ribbon. He has a small vertical scar over his right eye. Some say it was inflicted during the Pirating days when he saved England from Spain's attempt of vengeance.

"Hello Japan…" England smiled a little, then turned to America, who looked rather shock and nervous. "Good evening, America. I'm glad you had time to go to my party this time…" the Brit tried to stir humour in the group.

America gathered his wit to keep it cool, "You know, I never turn down free food!" laughed and grinned. Great, the first thing he always does in front of England: **Act dumb.**

England rolled his eyes, "You only think with that black hole of a stomach in your body. Can you at least act like you know the occasion you're eating in…"

The golden boy felt a bit hurt to be reminded of it. He scoffed and smirked, "Dude, I can eat wherever I want. I consider myself blessed that France took care of the cooking so, we won't suffer from your diabolical food…"

"America-san…" Japan mumbled, feeling embarrassed and scared for the sake of his friend.

**Second: **_Insult your love with all the things you can think of. Even if it's true, you say it in the most blunt and candid way possible._

Sadness and anger flashed in those emerald eyes, "You always eat everything I cook so, don't say something like that!" England exclaimed.

A low and friendly chuckle stopped the Brit, as he felt an arm rest around his shoulders. He turned to his side and saw Portugal smiling. "England's cooking is an acquired taste…" Port vouched for his love. "Not everyone can appreciate his cooking but I luckily enjoy them…" praising England, making the smaller nation blush.

America frowned and looked away. "I hope you don't die in three months time if you'll keep up with eyebrows…"

Portugal's smile faltered for a bit and turned to the Brit, "Arthur, is this America?" he asked, as if he never met the nation.

England nodded, "Yes, unfortunately, this is him…"

"Oh! So, this is the kid that you took care off and then left you to be independent…" Portugal pondered and looked at the American from head to toe. "No wonder Arthur is proud of you! You look strong and great!" he added with a goofy smile on his face.

The English island nation blushed while America's eyes widened, "Huh?"

Portugal grabbed America's hand and shook it, "I'm glad to meet you in person now. I don't really attend much of the World meetings so, I haven't seen you for a long time! Only photographs in Arthur's house." he laughed. "You were the one who saved my love during World Wars when I couldn't! I am eternally grateful!"

America couldn't believe his eyes and his ears. This was the man who will marry England? He looks like an airhead like Spain. He's so simple! I thought this man is scary and arrogant like Prussia. Why does he sound so kind? And he was admitting his faults in the first meeting! What the hell…

"Yeah, you see I'm the hero!" America grinned. "I saved England's ass from Germany! Even if he insisted that he can do it by himself…"

"Arthur is always like that. But he is adorable when he's working his hardest. Being cute and daring at the same time should be a crime, no?" Portugal pulled England closer, as if showing possessiveness.

"Stop being so daft, Afonso…" England blushed and tried to move away.

Portugal pouted and sighed, "But Arthur…" he stood up straight and let go of the Brit. "Okay, whatever my love wishes…"

"Thank you…"

"Portugal! Come here! Spain and Prussia wants to challenge you in a drinking match, mon ami!" France called, with a Spain and a little tipsy Prussia waving.

"England?" Port turned to his love.

"Fine, you may go but don't get too drunk before the announcement, alright?"

Portugal planted a kiss on the Brit's cheek and grinned, "Thanks!" and left to play with the Bad Touch Trio.

America watched the exchange with a baffled expression. _'I mean, seriously? He really asked for permission? What is he? Four years old?'_

Japan eyed the two western nations and coughed, "I'll check Italy and Germany. Please excuse me…" he bowed and hurriedly left, leaving America and England alone by the food table.

America could literally hear his blood pounding in his ears. He was now alone with England as if the world was with him or against him. He didn't know. What he only knew was England is with him right now. This could be a chance or a trap. This might not end well…

"Well…" England started looking around, as if trying to start a conversation to avoid to make the situation even more awkward. "Do you want to go to the balcony? I do not wish to smell like the Frog's food by staying here any longer." he added.

"Uh…" America stuttered, trying to find his voice. He nodded his head and smiled, "Yeah, sure. Okay dude…" he agreed.

* * *

The night was still young. A few stars were twinkling in the night sky and the breeze in the balcony was calming and cool. England rested his hands on the marble railing and stared up to the sky, his eyes closed as if feeling the wind touching his face. America, on the other hand, stood a few feet behind him, watching him. Admiring the way the moonlight kissed England's pale white skin, giving it an elegant glow.

For America, England had always been beautiful when bathe in moonlight. He discovered this when they were shipwrecked during the Second World War. He watched his beloved sleep peacefully by his side. America wanted to hold him, kiss him and tell him things that hides deep in his heart. But he didn't. He just watched, always observing from afar. He always thought England saw him as a child and nothing more. When will he be worthy? Will he **ever** be worthy?

"America…" England spoke and turned to face the other. A small smile was on his lips, his eyes were hopeful. "Thank you for coming here today even though you just wanted to eat… But I won't have it any other way…"

"England, I…" America started. Okay, he would not be an asshole. He wouldn't say anything wrong this time! Damn it! Even for tonight, he wanted to say the right things! The things that would matter the most!

"I can't believe that you're settling down…" he started.

"Is that American for, I can't believe that you're finally tying someone down or was that just an Adele song?" England snickered. The Brit was in a light and jolly mood tonight. He wanted everyone to be happy even if he himself was unsure. But nevertheless, happy.

America found himself chuckling as well, "Nah… I'm just happy that you found someone who can make you happy because you really need it, dude."

"Didn't I look happy before?" England asked, there was humor in his voice as well as sadness.

"Well, you always had problems. Everybody has them but you still think and care for everybody as well." America answered, seeing the Brit was surprised with his reply. He smiled to himself.

'_**That's right… I can be honest even if it may be the last thing that I may do for him…'**_

"Even if the colonies became free from you, you still made sure that they were well, especially me. I know you will never admit it, England but I am really thankful." the taller nation stepped closer to his former mentor. "I can't believe I'm going to say this England but, you've always been my hero but now, you don't have to anymore. I'm thankful for all the things that you gave me in the past. You gave me a language, culture and many, many things…" words flowed naturally, what he thought and what he feels. This was the moment that he would be honest. Even if it might be too late.

England felt like crying. Was he hearing these things right? Is America lying to him? God knows how long he wanted to hear those words yet, somewhere in his heart told him that it was not right. The green eyed nation shook his head and smiled, "No, America… Since the beginning you did not need me. When you were little, I knew that you would grow up to be a strong and respectable country. You may be childish most of the time but now, I can say that…" he cupped the other's cheek with a shaky hand. Tears threatened to spill from his emerald orbs, he almost choked when he spoke, "You are already a great nation despite whatever anyone else might say. You have the curiosity and the strong sense of justice that us, older nations, had forgotten. You are destined for greater things, America. And for that, I have always been proud of you…" England smiled wider.

He wanted to hold him. He wanted to kiss him. God, he wanted to tell him that he was the happiest man in the whole world. England had already acknowledged him, god knows for how long. His love was proud of him. America didn't notice that tears formed on his blue eyes. He cried in joy and regret.

England's eyes widened, "America…" he called out, worried. He was silenced when the younger nation pulled him close and held him, strong arms wrapping around his waist. "America, are you crying?" he asked, patting the other on the head, caressing those hay colored locks.

America shook his head and buried his head deeper into England's shoulder.

'_**How can I tell you this? That I have loved you for more than three hundred years…England, I love you… I want to tell the whole world how much I love you. But I can't do it anymore because you're no longer within my reach. I always belong to you, did you know that? And I wanted to give my heart. I wanted to be selfish and take you away from everyone. I want to be the one who will be there with you when you want someone to hold you, for you when you need a hero and to stand by your side as we live this eternity with each other. I want you to be happy even if I am not the one who will be able to cherish the wonderful person that you are…'**_

America pulled away and wiped away his tears. "I'm blaming you for this, old man! Geez…" he laughed and sighed. "Thank you, England. As a nation, you've been the best mentor that I could ever get and without you. I wouldn't be the Rocking U. S. of A. right now… What I'm trying to say is…" he grabbed one of England's hand and stared into those surprised eyes.

"You complete me…" America smiled, a teary smile. This was it. He will let go of his love, wishing the best for England as he hear the sound of his own heart breaking. Months, years maybe even centuries will take before gets over it but still, he would try. Yet he knew that he may never love, like how loves England, again.

England bit his lip, trying to stop the tears from spilling but he failed entirely. "Damn it, you git… A gentleman shouldn't cry in front of anyone…" he laughed and shook his head, "But it is you, America. No one ever saw me cry like this but you. It's not the same as the first because I'm just… Fine, I am happy…"

'_**Why didn't we do this before it was too late? Why did we do this on the night that would celebrate your union with another man?'**_

"Isn't this ironic?" England choked on a sob. He wiped away the new batch of tears from his eyes, "When you were little, you said the same things and you made me promise the most outrageous thing…" he laughed.

"A promise?"

"Yes, you idiot… When we attended a wedding back when you were a colony, you told me that you wanted to marry me like the bride. You never let it down until we got home and you made me promise that I should wait for you until you grow up and be the strongest nation in the whole universe, like you said…" England smiled at the memory. The lad would have probably forgotten it. It had been more than four hundred years since then. And yet, he waited. He waited until he realized that America had left it all behind him.

"Did you wait for me then?" the taller nation asked with his voice grave, earning him a baffled expression from the other. "Did you wait for me? For four hundred years, did you wait?" he looked for an answer in those beautiful emerald eyes.

Silence engulfed the two of them. A revelation reawakened their hearts. They were both caught up with things but neither of them truly forgot that day. America remembers. He remembers too well, in fact. He was scared that England may reject him because he left. He thought that that promise had long been forgotten by the ex-empire. But England didn't. He held on to it for four hundred years.

"England…" America whispered, looking at the other with hope.

"America, I…" the green eyed nation felt his voice falter. He certainly had not expected that kind of question from the other. England thought that America would just shrug it off as an irrelevant and unimportant like how he did with the other memories that the island nation often bring up. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, he was scared as he was nervous. The way America held his hand gave him a hunting feeling that he had missed something. Something that was there for very long time. Their gaze met, the green forest gazing up to the bright blue sky, together since the beginning but never met at the end. What was there to say? Would yes suffice for every yearning he had felt? Would the sky reach down to the forest if God was to allow it?

"Hey eyebrows, it's time for the couple dance! Portugal is waiting!" Seychelles called from the door, her brows furrowed as she saw the two nations in a very serious mood.

As if awakening from a spell, England managed to reply "I-I'll be right there!" He withdrew his shaking hand from America's grasp. He stepped back and excused himself before leaving the taller nation in the balcony. He couldn't do it. Once again, he was scared. If he listens to his heart, he might get hurt again. Another bout with abandonment might break him forever. He could not afford it even if America was to assure him. It would be too good to be true.

'_**I'm sorry, my love…'**_

America felt his knees give away, as if he lost all his strength in that moment. "He waited for me… I've let him wait for four hundred years. I didn't do anything to…" he lost it and shouted in frustration, startling the birds from the nearby trees. It was a good thing that the glass house was sound-proofed. No one heard his howls, filled with frustration and regret. He just realized that England felt the same way as him and he didn't do anything when his love was just waiting for him. Now he was going to lose that person.

"Al…" Canada mumbled under his breath as he saw his brother break down, alone in that god forsaken balcony. A tear trickled down his cheek. Seeing his brother like this hurts him although, America acted like an asshole most of the time. He was about to go to the other but he was stopped by France.

"Papa…"

"Non, Mattheui… _En attendant il vaut mieux se taire (It is better to say nothing)_" France shook his head. "Amerique needs no one but Angleterre right now…"

"But Papa…" Canada cried.

"Even Angleterre is hurt… They are such idiots. They loved each other for a long time but they just realized it when it's already like this…" France couldn't help but sigh heavily and looked back at England who was beside Portugal, watching the other nations dancing. Hurt written on his face despite the façade he was trying to maintain. "They're the only ones who can do something now… It will be now or never, mon Mattheui…"

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm your awesome host for tonight! The awesome Prussia!" the albino stood proud on the stage in front of the band.

"Get lost, Prussia…" Hungary booed.

"Shut up… Anyway! To lighten up everybody's night! A special dance number from last year's Halloween Party Dance Champions! Can we call on, America and England?" Prussia obnoxiously called out.

Canada panicked, "What? Papa, what is Prussia doing?" he asked.

France couldn't help but shake his head with the antics of his friend, "Mon dieu, I have no idea…"

Spain approached England, "Hey eyebrows, you're dancing…" he grinned.

"W-What? No!" England protested, looking at Portugal in panic. He couldn't dance with America now. It was just a few minutes after they talked. It would not bode well for the both of them.

Prussia scanned the crowd, "Where the fuck is America? Hey kid, come on out!" he called again. He then, saw America coming in from the balcony. The young nation was tugging his handkerchief in his breast pocket. "Hey America! Come here on the dance floor!" he gestured.

America was about to protest but a few nations pushed him to the center of the dance floor. "What the fuck, guys!" he whined. Why was the world so against him right now? The nation thought as he looked at the other in annoyance.

All that was left was England. The Brit didn't want to go close to the other for now. He don't know what he might do. "I can't…" he whispered to himself, as Spain tried to pull him into the dance floor.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, "Arthur, dance…" Portugal smiled.

"But Afonso…"

"I want you to enjoy this evening. I also want to see how you won that trophy… I wasn't there remember?" the other pleaded. "Do this for yourself, my love…"

England bit his lip and looked at the American who dumbly stood alone on the dance floor. He looked back to his fiancé and nodded, "Very well…" he agreed and let Spain pull him then push him to America.

Their shoulders bumped. They stared into each other's eyes and looked away. The world was probably putting them together for one last time. Of course there was tension between the two of them but they couldn't dare show it. It would stir old jokes and rumors.

"Okay!" Prussia laughed his signature laugh. "The awesome presents to you! The Halloween Dance champions, also known as the King and Queen of Spades, America and England!"

The lights dimmed and the spotlight was directed at the two. A familiar song was played by the band. It wasn't the most modern kind of music, it was an 80's song which was danced by Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey in the first "Dirty Dancing" film. The tune was soft and catchy at the same time. They didn't know the steps back then, they were just thrown at each other much like this. They weren't ready but they both knew how to harmonize and move with each other's tempo.

None of them moved at first. America knew that England wouldn't dance without anyone leading him. He had always been reluctant and shy. The taller nation debated himself if he would dance with England. He just got his heart broken to be in such a scene straight from a romantic film of his house. The younger nation glanced at England and saw the nation waiting for him to start. America huffed and chuckled, this would be embarrassing but he would rather make it worth to remember than to be nothing at all.

The taller nation looked back at the band and Prussia, "Dude! From the top!" he hollered with a toothy grin, much to England's surprise.

The music started again, this time, for sure, America would give his all in this dance. A last dance with England.

"_Now, I've had the time of my life,_

_No I never felt this way before…_

_Yes I swear, it's the truth…_

_And I owe it all to you…" _

The singer started in low tone.

The taller nation took England's hand and pulled him close. The latter smiled and nodded. America dipped England in a slow motion, which earned a few wolf whistles from the crowd.

'_Cause I've had the time of my life_

_And I owe it all to you'_

They started it with the most graceful and sensual way that every nation saw. The tango start, with America in the lead, had been unorthodox for the both of them but their bodies were somewhat in synch with each other. England being more flexible swayed his hips better than America, the tail of his coat swishing along.

'_I've been waiting for so long,_

_Now I've finally found someone_

_To stand by me…'_

They spun each other with a smile on their face. It was awkward during their first time but luckily, now, they were more comfortable with each other.

'_We saw the writing on the wall_

_As we felt their magical fantasy…'_

America chuckled at the lyrics as he held both of England's hands from behind, as they both sway their bodies. He spun the smaller nation to the side and back to his arms. They faced their audience as they tangoed side by side.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, they had seen these two dance before but there was something different now. It was like there was magic around those two.

America moved England to face him as they moved back and forth, their feet and body in rhythm with each other. He gazed at the other, etching it in his memory, how England looked so handsome and happy in his arms. If this would the last memory that he would ever get, with his love in his arms, then he would cherish every second of it.

'_Now with passion in our eyes_

_There's no way we could disguise it secretly_

_So we take each other's hand_

'_Cause we seem to understand the urgency_

_Just remember_

_You're the one thing_

_I can't get enough of_

_So I'll tell you something…'_

The crowd, lead by Prussia and Spain, sang the next line with mirth, "THIS COULD BE LOVE BECAUSE!"

The both nations couldn't help but laugh as they continued to dance while the other's sang along in the chorus. America started to dance the 'Running Man' step, followed by England. It was so retro that the others started to dance with them. They kept on laughing and singing as they joined the two.

"This like, totally, dorky!" Poland giggled as he danced with Lithuania.

"Germany! Dance too!" Italy pulled the reluctant Germany by the arm and brought him to the dance floor.

'_I've had the time of my life_

_No I've never felt this way before_

_Yes I swear it's the truth_

_And I owe it all to you'_

America grabbed his partner by the hips, "England…" he whispered before he placed both his hands on the other's hips. The smaller nation blushed and nodded. He placed his hands on the American's broad shoulders. America then lifted the other into the air, as they turned around slowly. England was light as a feather for him. The Englishman resembled an angel from America's view. The chandelier's light shone bright from the Brit's back. Everybody cheered and whistled at the two.

'_Cause I've had the time of my life_

_And I've searched through every open door_

'_Til I found the truth_

_And I owe it all to you'_

The American put the nation down, their lips nearly touching at the motion. They both smiled at each other, not minding how their bodies were pressed so closely, swaying slowly with the music. The dance floor was now crowded with the other nations. They were no longer alone but neither of them cared to notice. It was as if they were the only ones in the room.

* * *

France shook his head, "Those two dancing should be a crime. Prussia is seriously behind this…" he chuckled and noticed Portugal watching his fiancé and the American doing the old school slow dance. He approached the other and patted him on the back.

"Do you want to dance your Angleterre, mon ami?" he asked.

Portugal let out a small laugh and shook his head, still watching, "No… It's fine…"

"Mon cher, don't get angry at Amerique. I'm sure that Prussia was behind it. He always wanted to make things awkward, non? And also-"

"I've never seen Arthur smile and enjoy himself like that…" the Caribbean nation started, seeing his love in the arms of another nation. "Does he always smile like this with America?" he asked the Frenchman.

"In all honesty, mon ami. I cannot answer that without arousing any thought that may ruin this night for you…"France answered with a grave expression. He didn't want this nation to suffer over the unspoken love between the two nations. "All I can tell you is that, they are fools… Whatever they may have or had will never ruin how Angleterre see you. You will always be important to him…"

The other stared at the glass of rum in his hand and felt like crying. He has England but why does he feel so defeated? Should he still be jealous if they were getting engage in this very room? The night was about to reach the main event. He would slip a ring on his love's finger and in two months time, they would get married and stay together forever. He have loved England for a very long time, even before America could remember his beginning. He was the ally that England had for centuries passed and more to come. What would a young nation like America know about things that could make England happy? Hell, they have the longest running alliance know to man. But was that really enough?

Portugal looked at his love once again. The smile graced on the Brit's lips was so carefree, full of love and contentment. Could he offer the same things? Could he do those things for England? Could he make his love happy and content like that?

"I need a moment…" he excused himself and went to a private room, the room for England and him.

France watched the other nation walk away. He felt pity for Portugal. The nation didn't deserve such fate but he couldn't blame him. Being in love with someone who is already fated for someone else is unavoidable. In truth, he shares the same sentiments with Portugal.

* * *

America and England were still in each other's arms as the song faded. They slowly unwrapped themselves and stepped back. They could both feel the awkwardness that would eat them. Luckily, Prussia jumped in.

"Well, aren't you two cute?" he teased the two. "You have to thank the awesome me! As usual!" the albino piped up.

The taller nation scratched his head, "Yeah, thanks dude…"

"How about my little Englishman? Want a drink?" Prussia asked, handing a glass of ale to England.

England shook his head but took the glass nonetheless. "I guess I'll give you credit this time…"

"Sweet… You guys really have the moves, you know. Mein gott, I felt like I was watching Dirty Dancing all over again, Patrick Swayze, Gott bless his almost-as-awesome-as-me soul…" the albino paused for a moment then put his arm over England's shoulder, "So, want a drinking match before you tie the knot?" he wiggled his brows at the other.

"You're already drunk…" England pinched his nose.

"Handicapped just for you! I know how weak you are…"

"Why you!" England gritted his teeth and noticed America was silent. "America, are you alright?"

America nodded and smiled, "Yeah dude, I'm good… Just… England, I wish you all the best…" he smiled a little. Okay, parting words… He was never good with them. Hell, he never used them before! He just silently accepts.

"America, do you-"

"Amigo!" Spain clapped the younger nation on the back, "Can I talk to you for a sec? It's about the next songs…"

The other glanced at Spain and then to England, "Excuse me for a sec, okay? I'll be right back…" America went with Spain to the stage.

"So what's the prob?" America asked, looking around the band.

Spain grabbed him by the arm and pulled him behind the stage, "Someone wants to talk to you, amigo…" he then gestured to the door with "VIP" written on it.

"Who?"

"You'll find soon enough… Go in and keep quiet until the person comes in, got it?" Spain instructed.

America nodded and went in. The room was small, nothing but a chairs, a vanity mirror, and a small coffee table on the center. Everything was either white or wooden brown. He settled down on one of the chairs and waited. He joined his hands. Why did he feel nervous all of the sudden? Is this another one of the pranks by Prussia? Was China going to bring up his debt again? It might be Mattie, his brother was quite worried…

"Looks like you just got here yourself…" Portugal greeted by the door.

The taller nation's eyes widened. It was Portugal! What the fuck will he do now? He wasn't prepared or anything. What if Portugal saw how America sort of manhandle his fiancé on the dance floor?

"No need to panic, amigo… Sit down, I just want to talk to you." Portugal sat on the opposite chair from the other. "You might be wondering why I asked you to come here"

The Caribbean nation joined his hands and looked at the America from head to toe, as if assessing every detail of the other, "I wish to be honest with you right now and I will ask question, America… Do you or do you not have feelings for Arthur?"

America stiffened at the question. Okay, so maybe, Portugal wasn't as dense as Spain. He cleared his throat and clenched his hands, "It doesn't matter anymore. You two are getting engage tonight so what's the use in asking me…"

Portugal drew his cutlass from the back of the chair and pointed it at America's throat, "That may be true but I demand an answer, lad…" he whispered dangerously. "You may be a super power but I can beat you with experience…" he warned. "Talk…"

The blond nation felt a lump form in his throat. Weapons from the pirating days weren't as scary as the ones in the museum. It was scary when it's pointed at your neck. America could see the seriousness in those topaz colored eyes. Portugal is truly dangerous despite whatever first impressions he may give.

But he was not afraid, America calmly spoke, "Yes, I do have feelings for England. I loved him for more than three hundred years but now, he loves you. So what's the point? You already have him. What more do you want?" he heard himself growl on the last words.

The cutlass pierced America's skin only making a small scratch, "Can you prove that?" Portugal smirked and laughed, "Oh wait… You already gave up. No wonder you don't deserve Arthur. You may act strong and heroic but you're nothing but a coward…"

"I'm not a coward! I just didn't want to hurt England… I know I've hurt him! That's why-"

"That's why you let him isolate himself! You left Arthur behind, crying, that fateful rainy day didn't you? You must be fucking proud of yourself, Mr. Land of the Free…" The Caribbean nation scoffed and leaned closer to the America. He then drew back and walked around the other. "Let's see… You made him cry. He became unreachable for many years that I've cursed you even if I haven't seen your shitface after that Revolutionary war. Nevertheless, Arthur accepted it. He acknowledged you, didn't he? But you were this proud nation who walks around with an air screaming 'I made the British Empire cry, I can rule the world'. Too proud, lad. Too damn proud…" Portugal gritted his teeth and almost struck America with his weapon.

"I wasn't! I didn't mean to! I wanted to apologize to England but I can't. I stood up for my people even if I love him. As a country, my people comes first even if I would regret it after four hundred years! Whatever may have happen back then, I wouldn't want to change it! I will not surrender to England! I will fight for my freedom!" America exclaimed, standing up from his chair. His eyes shut tight and his fists curled in frustration.

The American felt his body throb in anger but it was washed away by sadness, "But if I would change one thing… I would have told Arthur that I love him through all those years. That I would always want to come to his rescue and protect him even if it's from myself… Since we went our separate ways, I couldn't bring myself to tell him how much he really means to me. Even if I felt that somehow I could make him happy, I had to distance myself because if I show him how much he means to me. I'm afraid that one day I may once again be forced to let go of his hand… That's why I'm glad that you will take care of him because I can't…"his lips trembled, "I'm not worthy…"

"Please take care of England for me…" America whispered almost inaudibly.

Portugal looked at him with an unfathomable expression. He drew his cutlass back to its sheath and crossed his arms. "Consider it done, Americano… You may leave…" he turned his back on the other.

America nodded and left. It would be better if he left for good. He might not be able to keep his composure if he saw England slip on that ring in front of him. He would congratulate him later, when the chains would loosen his restrained heart.

* * *

**Meanwhile, across the hall…**

"Where's America…?" England mumbled. He was going to ask the younger nation about their discussion in the balcony. That promise was important and England wanted to know if America truly remembered it. His mind knew that it was foolish because he was already getting engaged and yet, his heart yearned for the truth. He was just about to give up when he bumped into France, who was walking back from the back of the stage. "France! Watch where you're going!" he growled. He got nothing but a solemn look from the other. "What's wrong with you?"

France shook his head, "Non, mon ami. But America may have-"

"Where is he?" the Brit queried in worry. "What happened to him?" he pressed on until he saw the American leaving a room near the stage. "America!" he called but the other did not hear him. He ran after him but he stopped when Portugal emerged from the door next.

"A-Afonso?" England gasped when he saw the bruise on the other's lip. "W-What happened?"

Portugal smiled sadly, "Arthur…" he held the Brit. "I love you…"

The other froze. He returned the gesture but felt that something was off. "Afonso… What are you-"

"Do you still wish to marry me?" Portugal whispered. England's eyes widened and he pulled back from the nation.

"Afonso, why are you asking me this in such a time?"

"Because I want you to be happy and true…" Portugal held the other's hands and looked into those beautiful green orbs. "Do you **still** hold feelings for America?"

England's breath hitched as his hand trembled. He tore his eyes away from those brown eyes. How can he answer? The nation before him had been by his side for hundreds of years, through victories and defeats. He was his longest ally and closest friend. Portugal never left his side and he appreciated that but why didn't his heart weigh it as much as his mind and virtue? There had always been this void for centuries that had never been filled. In a way, Portugal couldn't make him whole. A piece was still missing from his entire being.

The Brit lost his voice. For once, he couldn't tell his old friend what he feels. England had been true to Portugal because he knew that the latter would never judge him and would stand by his side despite the odds. However, this time, he knew that the words that threatened to spill from his lips would hurt this person. This nation whom dedicated so much in their alliance and lives alone. _'How could I ever hurt you?'_

"Afonso… Please…"

The brown-haired nation took off his earring and held it in his hand. He drew his hands to his back and smiled sadly. When he drew both of his hand forward to England, both were closed and clenched tightly. England looked at the other in confusion, "Afonso, what are you doing?"

"I'm helping you, Arthur. In one of my hands is the earring that you've given me back during the destruction of Spain's Armada. You said that it symbolizes your trust in me and now, I also trust you" Portugal raised his hands closer to the other, "Then Arthur, if you find the earring, I want you to trust yourself as much as I trust you. I want you to be happy even if it may mean that you will have to leave…"

England felt his hands tremble and stared at those tanned hands and back to its owner, "Afonso, you can't mean that…"

"If you could not find it, then we will marry… You will have to forget about how you feel towards America. So, Arthur, if you would… Please," he sighed, "Choose…"

The Englishman raised his shaking hand and held it close to his chest. Should he choose? This was his last chance. Surely, Portugal is a sensible man and he would keep his word but along with that, he is also a man with great wit. There is a chance that the earring is in neither hands. It was a gamble. England gulped and pointed at the left hand.

Portugal sighed and smiled as he opened his left hand. The other's eyes widened. There sat a golden earring with emerald gems attached to it. It was gleaming at Arthur like a shining beacon of hope. He looked up to Portugal and felt a hunch that there was still something more to that smile. England hastily opened the other hand and saw a similar earring. His whole body trembled in shock. He could not believe it.

"Afonso, I thought you lost this…"

"No… I kept it secretly and thought that I would give it to you tonight after the engagement but I guess… There's no need for me to do it anymore…" Portugal chuckled.

Tears blurred England's vision as he covered his mouth to suppress a sob. "Afonso… I'm sorry…" he whispered.

The Caribbean nation shook his head and held the other, "No… You don't have to be." he looked at him, "Now, follow America…" he smiled, fighting back the urge to hold the other in his arms and never let go.

To his surprise, England leaned up to him and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek before parting away and giving him the sweetest smile he had ever been blessed to see. "Thank you for loving me, Afonso… If could love another aside from America I would have chose you… I wish you to find the person who deserves a person as lovely as you. Thank you…"

England stepped away from the other. Portugal literally felt the other's hand slip from his along with the chance of requital. The Englishman had left him standing there alone in that moonlit hallway with a bittersweet smile on his face.

France emerged from one corner, "Are you satisfied with your decision, mon ami?" he asked, gazing at the Tudor rose between his fingers.

"Yes, because I know that I made Arthur happy…"

"You are really a brave man, Portuguese… I truly admire your courage…" the Frenchman smiled sadly and shook his head. "We shall continue to enjoy this evening before telling the other guest that the bride has somehow run away"

Portugal laughed and wiped away a tear from his eye, "We shall, indeed."

He ran as fast as his legs could carry his lithe figure. It has been a long time since he had such an adrenaline rush like this. Blood continued to pound into his ears as anxiousness continued to eat him. He turned left and right, his eyes scanning through every possible way that the American had taken.

"Bloody hell America, where are you?" England panted and finally reached the entrance of the venue. He heard an engine roar from a short distance, heightening his sense at the moment. His ears perked up and turned his head to the driveway.

* * *

There was the Harley Davidson motorbike that stood out in the crowd of expensive government vehicles. Stars and Stripes waved as wind blew in that cold evening. The rider was putting his Captain America helmet on his head, locking the strap in place.

England felt his throat run dry, this was it. All he need is to call him back, back to him and deal with their confused feelings. His breath hitched, it was visible in that cold evening. He couldn't find his voice when he wanted to call his name.

"America, come back…" he mumbled as he felt his eyes watered. His fists clenched tightly on his sides, England gathered all his strength to call that blasted name.

"**AMERICA**!" he called out, his voice echoed into the night.

The younger nation froze on his spot when heard his name. It might be nothing but an illusion, a final spark of magic that love had offered him. He heard footsteps fast approaching him and stops almost a yard from him. The American hesitated to look back, afraid to see what was waiting for him.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, you git!" England exclaimed, gritting his teeth in frustration. Why can't the other look back at him? Did he not feel the same way?

America did not respond. If he looked back to England, he might not be able to keep his words to Portugal. Taking England away could destroy world relations and start another war. He could never deal with that. He had dragged the world to battles far enough.

"Go back inside England, your party isn't over yet…" he heard himself reply half-heartedly. The grip on the handle of his motorcycle tightened. "It's your engagement so-"

"SHUT UP!" England anguished, heaving deep breaths. "This is your last chance Jones…" he started. "Once you drive out of here, don't you dare show your sodding face to me again. You have ten bloody seconds to tell me the truth and ten seconds starts now!" he huffed and took a deep breath.

"**TEN**!"

Surprised with what the Brit had said, America looked back and saw England stand behind him with tears glazing over those lovely emerald eyes. His calloused and tanned hands shook with nerves as he stared at the other with wide eyes, "England what are you doing?"

"**NINE**!"

"England, why do you-"

"You're always wasting time America, I've had enough of waiting and this will be the last time! I swear if you don't bloody say anything the matters you could just die right now! **EIGHT**!" the green eyed nation continued.

"I don't understand why you're doing this! Arthur, stop!"

"**SEVEN**! You're not listening to me at all, you sodding git of a wanker!"

"Cause I don't understand!" America spat back, frustrated.

England felt his blood boil hotter by the seconds, "You don't understand many things! What's new? You always did what you want before! Now you're bloody giving up! You dolt! I'm telling you Jones if I don't hear anything in the next five seconds, you might as well kill yourself or I'll gladly deliver it myself!"

"**SIX**!"

America felt his heart pound louder in his chest. Was England serious? Did he just seriously say those things? If he did this now, will it guarantee him to have that scrawny and grumpy nation in his arms everyday for the rest of eternity? He audibly gulped as beads of sweat trickled down his face.

"**FIVE**!" England continued to count, eyeing any movement from the other.

'_**America, please… tell me because I'm afraid that what you may have felt was a figment of my last dream…'**_

"**FOUR**!" he felt his hope falter. "**THREE**!" he wanted to cry.

"**TW**-" England's words were muffled by a pair of soft chapped lips against his. His eyes widened in shock as he felt those strong arms around him, holding him tightly, protectively and almost possessively.

The taller nation parted away and smiled, "America…" England whispered, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

"**One**?" America asked with a sheepish smile on his face. The older nation cried and smacked the other on the shoulder, "You idiot…" England grumbled as he rested his head on the other's chest. "Don't scare me like that…"

America chuckled nervously, "You were the one who was scaring me with your stupid countdown…"

England pushed him away, "Because it has been too long! I had been tired of waiting!"

"Hey… You weren't the only one who had been waiting! I WAS TOO, Y'KNOW!" America groaned and pulled him back to his arms, "I love you, Arthur… I was afraid that you didn't… Because I left you…"

"And I was afraid you didn't because you left me…" England looked into the other's eyes, "So, I want to hear those words you git…"

America looked at him in worry, "What about Portugal?"

England smiled sadly, "He let me go… He said that he wanted me to be happy and that would be to be with you…"

The taller nation couldn't help but smile. He thought that the Caribbean nation was completely against him and his feelings towards England but he was wrong. That nation is a very respectable and sensible one. America promised to himself that he wouldn't disappoint Portugal and especially England on their decision. This choice was made for the better. "Shit… I'm so happy, I could die…" America chuckled.

"Don't be an idiot! If you die right now, I'll resurrect you and kill you again myself for wishing that! You just got me, you git!" England gritted his teeth in annoyance.

"Well you could have asked nicely right? But don't worry England," he planted a soft kiss on England's forehead. "I promise you won't be able to get rid of me in anyway…"

England felt his cheeks warm up, "That'll surely be a pain…"

"You'll get used to it like how I'll get use to being with an old man everyday…" America snickered, earning him a half-hearted clout from the Brit.

"And I'll have to get use to being with a childish prat like you…"

America pouted and glomped England, "No fighting for now. All I want to hear now is what Arthur Kirkland feels about the hero…"

"Tough luck, love. You'll have to wait longer for that…"

"WHAT? But I said it! Why don't I get to hear you say 'I lov-" to America's surprise, England pulled him by his necktie to silence him with a well-executed kiss. The hero could feel his legs wobble a bit with the level of dexterity that the Brit was executing. He tried to fight for dominance but it was futile. Being a bit inexperienced in the human sense of the word was a total downer for him but at least England isn't complaining.

They parted with a string of thin saliva as the American panted for air. England, on the other hand, has a very smug smirk on his face. "Whoa…" was all the younger nation could say.

"I stand by the saying, 'action speaks louder than words'." England licked his lips.

"If that was equal to an I love you, I want you to say it everyday… Damn…" America's smile twitched in nervousness. Geez, a boyfriend like this? Will he live long? He might die sooner if the older nation acts like this when intimate. "Guess the poll for the world's best kisser is accurate as shit…"

"Damn straight…"

America shook his head, took another helmet and put on the smug Brit. "What the bloody hell…" England growled.

"Safety first babe 'cause I'm gonna take you away from here!" the American grinned and pulled the other on his motorbike.

England blushed and felt embarrassed not only by their plan to escape but the other's terms of endearment. "You did not just call me 'Babe'… You do realise I'm a man, Alfred…" he harangued.

The taller nation let the bike's engine roar as kicked the stand up and readied himself. He turned the knob a few times making the vehicle screech in place, "You'll hafta get used to it. Hold on tight, sweetheart…" he grinned and drove the Harley so fast that England quickly grabbed on to the American for dear life.

"BLOODY HELL!" he cried out in panic, strong gust of wind hitting his face. He was scared but he couldn't help but laugh at the thrill of this experience.

"WOOHOO! I LOVE YOU ENGLAND!" America exclaimed through the way. Finally, he was able to say those words out loud without worry and fear.

America couldn't help but laugh in bliss and contentment. There he was. His love behind him, holding on to him as they escaped the night that almost tore them eternally apart. At the beginning , he thought this night would be hell but miraculously it exhibited how his heaven would start. And he wasn't complaining on how it came to be.

* * *

**Note: **

Okay so maybe I've been away for far too long and in hiatus with my other fics. Internship is a bitch. I'm enjoying work but it eats up my sched, you know what I mean. So, this is just a peace offering to those who are following my stories "Peanut Butter and Jelly' and 'Freedom and Tsunderella'.

I'm not very familiar with Portugal so forgive me for being inaccurate and such. I'm still studying his and England's 700 years of alliance. I'll come up with better stories for these two 'cause they just became my fave BFF.

Also, I'm working on organizing a linguistics seminar in the academy I'm working at. The next chapter for "Freedom and Tsunderella" will be up by Thursdays. and "Peanut Butter and Jelly" will be up by Saturdays.

Review and I'll try to get in touch as much as possible.

**ShizukaUsami89**


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